Page 90 of The Lady’s Great Escape

Chapter Thirty

Kit lay in his bed looking up at the canopy until morning seeped in through the gaps of his drapes.

He couldn’t bring himself to regret Willa’s happiness. Kit might have been happy with her, but she belonged with the man who had won her heart. The man who had quite possibly spent the night before in Celia’s bed.

It was quite the convoluted affair. But if Rathmore cared for Willa as much as she cared for him, the man would no longer play the role of Celia’s lover. Kit was sure Rathmore wouldn’t play her false. Kit knew him to be an honorable man who would be true to his wife.

That would leave Celia free once again. But she only wanted a lover. And Kit wanted her forever. The more he lay there thinking, the more he came to realize that she was the only one for him.

How could he face her at the next ball when she asked him to help her find another lover? He couldn’t.

He’d done a fair job of staying clear of her the last week or so. He’d just have to continue to keep distance between them. He’d had enough of balls for the moment. He would take some time and tend to his wounds in private. Wounds that had never quite healed from her rejection years ago.

He managed to stay home alone the next night, but by the following night he couldn’t take his own company any longer and decided to go out.

Instead of attending a ball, he headed to his club where he was sure to meet up with his friends. Sure enough, he found Gray and some of the men sharing a drink with Ernest, who was happily telling the news of his sister’s upcoming nuptials to Lord Rathmore.

Kit had been correct that Celia would once again be free, not that it would change his circumstances in the least. Just because she was no longer with Rathmore didn’t mean she wanted Kit.

“Sorry for your luck, old chap,” Ernest said with a slap to Kit’s shoulder. “It’s for the best.”

Kit couldn’t help but think Ernest felt it was for the best because his sister was marrying a rich marquess rather than a viscount who was just turning a profit.

“What was he talking about?” Hayworth asked as Ernest headed to another table to continue his celebration. “Why would you care who his sister was to marry?”

“Because he had been ready to propose to the girl, himself,” Gray answered even if the question was directed to Kit.

“Willa? But she’s just a girl,” Hayworth frowned.

“She’s of age and a lovely young woman,” Kit explained. “Fortunately for her, she was quite swept away by Lord Rathmore and apparently, he is just as captivated.”

“You really are planning to marry then?” Hayworth looked appalled as Kit nodded.

“I’ve been telling you this for months,” Gray said while rolling his eyes.

Hayworth shook his head. “I know. But I thought surely you were playing a jest.”

Kit shook his head. “Why is it so hard for you to grasp the reality of such an endeavor for a man of my age?”

“I guess I don’t want it to be true for it leaves less of us to fend off the rest of the lot,” Hayworth said with a dramatic shiver.

“I’ll never give in,” Gray said matter of factly, before pouring another drink.

“Never is a long time, my friend.”

“Is it? You’ve been looking for a wife and still haven’t one. While we have been quite successful in trying to avoid it.” Gray laughed.

Kit shrugged. The man had a point. Perhaps they wouldn’t ever find brides—Gray because he didn’t want it, and Kit because no one else was Celia.

He shook the thought away, but they didn’t allow him a reprieve for very long.

“What about Celia?” Hayworth suggested with a nod to Gray. “She’s available.” As if that was the only point to recommend her. Kit was angry on her behalf.

“She’s lovely and I’d marry her this instant.”

“But she won’t have him,” Gray added with a frown.

“Why not?” Hayworth’s brows pulled together.